The Intelligence Control and Analysis Program

Chapter 16

"So." Rossi pulled his housecoat tighter around himself and stepped onto the side porch, bracing himself against the chill of night. "Tomorrow is the big day."

Dallas looked up from the firepit for a fraction of a second, and then his eyes were right back on the flames, immediately distant. He curled up a little more, gripping his blanket, and leaned against the arm of the deck chair he was on. He pressed his cheek against the wood with a little sniff, still staring into the fire.

"Do you think you're ready?"

Dallas kept staring at the fire, either unwilling or unable to look away. He didn't respond for several seconds, and then he shook his head ever so slightly.

"You don't?" Rossi wasn't all that surprised, but he still pretended to be caught off-guard by the answer. "Why not? You'll be great. Nobody knows how to do that job better than you."

Dallas jerked his head in a tiny nod, but that was the extent of his contribution to the conversation. It was impossible to determine whether the cold, December air was responsible for the shiver that ran through his body.

Rossi shuffled over and sat down in the empty chair next to Dallas. "You're not worried about the job, are you?" He leaned back in his chair with a sigh and shifted his feet a little closer to the fire, soaking up the warmth. "You're worried no one will listen to you."

Dallas looked down at the stone patio, and then he looked up at Rossi, green eyes wide and vulnerable. He nodded his head once and then looked down again, a little shudder traveling through his body.

Rossi offered a small smile. "I don't think they would have asked for your help if they didn't plan on using it. And Chief West seems determined to do right by you, so... I wouldn't worry."

Dallas swallowed and wrapped his arms around his knees, hugging himself. He shifted his weight, settling deeper into the chair.

"I know, I know. Easier said than done, right?" Rossi heaved a sigh and tilted his head back, staring through the glass ceiling to the stars above. "Have you heard the latest on Bale?"

Dallas didn't say anything—for obvious reasons—and Rossi couldn't see Dallas' facial expressions or body language. Still, Rossi wasn't really asking, he was segueing, so he continued.

"Well, we found one of his personal airports, and we found evidence there that led us to another, bigger airport in Kentucky. Kentucky authorities are tearing that place apart, but whatever plane was there is gone, and they haven't reported anything significant." Rossi shrugged his shoulder with a little hum. "I don't know. I don't think they're going to find anything. I don't think anyone is ever going to know where he went or what became of him." Rossi looked at Dallas then. "Except you, of course."

Dallas stared at Rossi like a deer in the headlights, chest heaving slightly as his breath picked up. His fingers slipped over his shins, gripping the bones as he waited, tensed like an animal ready to bolt.

"I mean, it was you, right?" Rossi reached a hand into the pocket of his housecoat. "See, I found this little book..." he pulled it out, "...that Bale kept in his desk. It looks to me like some kind of record of different planes and when they were 'updated.'" Rossi held up a finger, keeping his tone and behavior casual. "Now, I was confused about that at first, but then I figured there's no way Bale would have any kind of equipment on his planes that would allow control towers to keep tabs on him. So, he had to have some kind of completely independent technology that enabled him to keep track of flight patterns around him."

Dallas bit down on his lip and peered up at a Rossi, eyes pleading and flooded with guilt.

Rossi simply continued speaking, calm as could be. "Whatever that technology was, it would have to be updated pretty frequently to keep up with the latest advancements and changes made to the flight equipment on other planes. So, this little book kept track of which plane was most up-to-date." Rossi flipped through the pages idly, skimming the pages as if he didn't already know what they said. "It says right here that plane is in Kentucky." He held the book open with two pages and extended it toward Dallas.